War of the Apocalypse
by WarriorSwan
Summary: The XMen must split up, stretching themselves thin as each member has a different task that they must fulfill, and the fate of the entire world will rest on the shoulders of just one. Please, read and review so I at least know if it's worth continuing.
1. Chapter 1

Rain pours down from an angry red sky. Large drops mimic the sound of tiny feet. They slap and crackle in the leaves. The scent of the late autumn downpour permeates the air so strongly, nothing could be detected. That's where their advantage lies. Under the cover of heavy fog, their scent shrouded by the terrible weather, men in riot gear slowly make their way through the patch of trees.

Wolverine stands alone in the gazebo on the mansion roof. He stares out at the horizon through the sheets of rain, watching the crimson storm clouds move slowly toward him, never ending, an infinite downpour that would just keep coming and never stop. Light mist emanates from his nostrils with each breath in the cool evening air. Though his sense of smell is much more intense than the average human, he smells nothing but rain and molding leaves in the muddy grass. He stands barefoot upon the stone in his gym outfit, a white tank and slate gray sweat pants. The cool air is a welcome comfort after sweating like an animal in the attic gym just below his feet.

The bushes below rustle. Easily visible, but barely heard over the storm. Lightning streaks the sky, followed by the loud crash of thunder a moment later. Wolverine unleashes his claws and hops over the gazebo rail into rain. His clothes are instantly soaked, and his claws shimmer with rain drops in the dissipating light of the bloody horizon.

He crouches on the edge of the roof, his toes hanging off and curling around. He stares into the mist below with keen eyesight, just waiting for the brush to move again. Bushes rustle and shake, then part in places. He imagines, or perhaps actually sees several shadowy shapes moving through the modest patch of woods beside the mansion. He sniffs the air, but smells only the scents of autumn, strong and a little smothering. "Friggin' rain," he grumbles. He grins, bearing his teeth, and growls quietly, then in a flash, lunges forward.

His claws slice into the trunk of a tree as if it were foam rubber. He clings to the tree, both sets of claws in the trunk, his feet upon branches on either side. He sits still, silently watching and waiting, like a massive 350 pound cat in the jungle, waiting for the right moment to strike his prey. He sees the group more clearly now, a dozen or more dressed in riot gear, carrying military rifles. The group passes by, a straggler hangs back.

Wolverine drops to the ground, nearly silent. He moves slow, stalking closer, just behind the straggler. At the last minute he strikes, slipping a set of claws into the man's trigger arm, and simultaneously clapping a meaty paw over his mouth. He melts into the shadows several yards away, completely undetected, dragging his prey along. Using the hand over the man's mouth, he slams his head into a tree trunk, full force. The riot helmet cracks loudly. Wolverine reaches out, grabbing the helmet, and yanks it off his head quick as lightning. He looms over his prize, grinning wildly, murder in his eyes. The soldier sits in the mud, obviously dazed. "How's the head, pal?"

His head spins as he stares up at the humanoid animal towering over his bent form. When he speaks, he sounds the way a wolf ought to sound if God had given him the ability to speak. "Hurts," is all he can muster. He allows his body to slump, dropping his weight on the tree behind.

"Well, you're about to hurt a hell of a lot. Start talkin'."

The soldier shakes his head, trying to shake out the stars.

"Tell Magneto," the man spits, "To save me a spot in hell." He grabs his gun, and before Wolverine realizes, he points the gun, and fires. Wolverine takes a bullet in the shoulder, roaring in pain and anger. The berserker rage creeps into his brain and takes over. He feels warm all over, his teeth hurt, and his eyes feel ready to burst, full of pressure. He bares his teeth and roars loudly like an animal whose just been attacked by another. He raises both claws, and slashes downward, quick and fierce. The soldier's head rolls across the leaf covered floor of the woods, leaving a trail of thick, black blood.

The world lies ominous in deep shades of red. His breath comes in thick, ragged puffs. His pulse races, his heart beating much faster and harder than normal. He grunts, deep and guttural with every breath.

Wolverine mindlessly stalks his prey through the trees like a hunting animal following an elusive meal. "I'll get 'em, and tear 'em to friggin' shreds. Ya wanna come to my house lookin' fer trouble? Ya found it, smart ass." He stops and bellows to the sky, roaring loudly, every muscle in his body tensing harshly, his every ligament burning, feeling as if they may snap from the intensity.

He takes off, running full speed, dipping between trees and expertly dodging every trunk. He moves up behind the group, closing the gap. He leaps into the air with all his might, coming down in the middle of the platoon. Before they have time to react, Wolverine unleashes his fury. He tears, slashes, kicks, even bites. Lost in a blissful sea of blood, entirely unaware of anything but murder, Wolverine's rage gets the better of him, causing him to not even feel several bullets bite into his skin.

He grabs the last soldier, pinning him on his back in the mud. Wolverine crouches, carefully balanced on the man's chest. He crouches low, his face merely inches from that of his prey, grunting and growling with every steamy breath. His tongue playfully grinds against his canines, switching back and forth. The soldier feels his powerful hands gripping his shoulders, his thick feet in the center of his chest, his hot breath on his face. He carefully steps off the man's chest, placing each foot on either side in the mud. The soldier coughs and sputters, fighting to regain his breath. "Don't bother tryin' to breathe," Wolverine growls. He raises a massive arm, and swiftly brings it down, claws first, into his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Henry McCoy lounges on the plush sofa in front of the large television set in the mansion's sitting room, watching the news. Several others stand throughout the room, glued to the television. The doors in the foyer swing open. "Where is everybody?!" Wolverine roars. "In here," comes the reply from the sitting room. Wolverine storms in, dripping with rain and blood. The Beast leaps to his feet.

"Sweet mother of God, Logan, are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's not my blood."

Everyone turns their attention to the dripping Wolverine, causing a commotion throughout the room.

"A buncha guys with guns wandered in, they said something about Magneto, and I wasted them all," Wolverine says quickly, "Where's the professor? We should take him somewhere safe for a while."

"Sit down, Wolverine." The Beast speaks carefully.

"Don't wanna."

"Then I'll make it quick. There have been several attacks on the Mutant Control agency, equipment and technology has gone missing. Eye witness reports place Magneto at the scene, which should come as no surprise. However, he's been linked back to us somehow, and we're being blamed. Congress is trying to pass a bill that would make the agency government controlled and funded. It would be like the CIA with the main focus being mutants."

"Could that have been the guys I just tore to pieces?"

"Most likely. In fact, I'd bet my ass."

"The day Hank McCoy bets his ass is the day I start worryin'."

"We need to get Charles to a safe place until we can figure this whole thing out."

"Quiet down! Listen!" Cyclops says hastily.

The President steps up to a podium overlooking hundreds of press and concerned citizens. "My dear Citizens, I have to wonder how long we're going to have to live in fear of these so-called mutants. The mutant control agency, which has been designed to help mutants has been attacked and criticized by mutant leaders and advocates since its conception several years ago. The massive Sentinel robots have been called cruel and unusual, and thus, unconstitutional. Mutants say they're sick of being treated like criminals, but I say, stop acting like criminals. Mutant Terrorist leaders such as Magneto have time and again threatened the well-being of the homo-sapiens. How many lives will be lost before we take a stand? When will our country realize that it's not unconstitutional to employ such measures as are necessary to contain these menaces? I'm proposing a bill, which, if passed, will allow the government to fund and control the mutant control agency, to keep men like Magneto from ever hurting another person. Advocate groups like the X-Men must be stopped. They say they are here to protect us, but from what? Mutants? They're mutants themselves. Does that make any sense at all?"

A loud crash rips through the room as the wall behind the president is literally torn off and tossed aside. Magneto floats into the room through the gaping hole. He appears pale, wearing a different costume and helmet. The edges of the helmet are jagged, evil-looking. His clothing is in different shades of black and gray. He steps up to the podium, tossing the President aside. "My fellow citizens, it is time you've learned just how superior we truly are as a race. You will come to know me in time, as the Angel of Death." With the word death, he fires bolts of intense lightning from his hands, causing the sound system to explode in a hail of white hot sparks. The screen goes black.

Cyclops kicks an arm chair across the room. "Damn it all to hell!" Angry, he storms out of the room. "Scott…" The Professor speaks quietly as he walks by in the hallway. He hovers into the room in his massive yellow chair, and parks himself by the door. "I suppose you've all seen the news." Wolverine speaks up. "While they've been seeing the news, I've been outside livin' it. A buncha mutant control freaks broke into the yard, fully armed. Who knows what they were planning? There's probably more just outside."

"Then we have no time, we should leave. If we are public enemy number one, we're in constant danger."

"I agree," says the Beast, unconvincingly. "Though I'm intrigued, he mentioned the Angel of Death, and am I the only one who noticed his not so normal appearance?"

"Hank, you're not suggesting -"

He cut the Professor off mid-sentence. "Apocalypse."

"I should try to see Magneto."

"Charles, I wouldn't recommend it."

"If we truly are dealing with Apocalypse, isn't is just as likely that his Magneto is an impostor?"

"Well, I suppose, but it's a slim chance. We can't allow you to go."

"Henry, as long as I am alive, none of my students will have authority over me."

"Charles, I didn't mean -"

" I know, Henry. But this is something I must do. If Apocalypse is indeed planning something, we need as much help as we can get. The hard fact is, I am no help against him, Magneto and the Brotherhood are."

"Damn it, Professor."

"You know I'm right, Henry, do not fight me on this."

The Professor floats out of the room, and into the elevator halfway down the hall. The large blue animal that is one of the most gentle people one would ever meet finds himself sitting on the love seat, and sighs heavily. Wolverine stalks out of the room silently, like an over sized house cat. The room is nearly empty, except for Betsy Braddock, best known as Psyclocke. She stands, and makes her way around the room behind the love seat. She places her hands on his shoulders.

"Try not to take it so hard, Henry," she says in her sultry British accent.

"It's hard not to. Where would we be without his guidance? Suppose Magneto is being controlled by Apocalypse. There's no way they'd just let the Professor come back to us."

"I know, Henry. But let's assume that the Magneto on television is an impostor, the real Magneto would be a help against Apocalypse."

"He would, but is it a risk worth taking?"

"Personally, no. I wouldn't allow it. But for the world?"

"Point taken, Betsy. I suppose we'll just have to suck it up and see what happens."


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness. It's all he knows as he begins to stir. Slowly, sounds can be picked out, one at a time. A boot shuffling on the floor as someone mis steps; the heavy breathing of a man with a sinus infection; the soft giggle of a flirtatious woman. All of which occurred at precisely the same time. He grunts as he tries to sit upright. "Hello, Charles. Nice of you to join us." He recognizes the voice, but there's something odd in it. He can't place it.

The voice lifts the shapeless felt bag from his face. It belongs to Mr. Sinister. "Where is Magneto?" is all Charles can manage. A sharp pain shoots through his skull, starting in the left eye socket, and blasting through his brain stem. "Charles, I admire your naiveté. Blissful it must be not to see the whole picture, even when it is presented in its entirety, uncensored, for your viewing pleasure." The Professor shakes his head, the jumbled thoughts slowly coalescing into one realization.

"Come, Charles, stand up and join me on the balcony for a moment."

In his stupor, the Professor is forgetful of his disability, and stands, following Sinister out to the balcony. He gazes out into a long field far below them, full to the brim with what appears to be people.

"Is that the Capitol Building?"

"Yes, Charles. You stand now at the very top of your nation's phallus, gazing out at the Washington Mall."

Sinister throws up his arms in triumph, gazing at his army. Each and every soldier thrusts a fist into the air.

"My friend, you will remember the night you were struck by the sight of ten-thousand fists in the air."

"Dear God," Charles chokes out as he turns away, falling to his knees.

"The riders have departed from my very gates far below your feet. The four are abroad, seeking out the greatest threat to our cause." He spits out "Your X-Men," with such fury, as if vomiting out pure anger and hatred.

Professor Xavier looks up to see Mystique seated only a few feet from him. Beside her in a cage of steel bars lies the President of the United states, unconscious and bound. "But how-" Charles spits out, wildly. Mystique transmogrifies into the appearance of the President. "Good morning, citizen, registered voter. You picked a hell of a President," she says in the President's voice.

"But what about Congress? Even you couldn't be in all of their places at once."

"No, she couldn't," Sinister begins with a wry grin, "But I could certainly lean on them in my own way." He holds a large syringe in his hand, and squirts out a bit of blue-green fluid.

"Where is Magneto?"

"Apocalypse offered him a hell of a bargain. He simply... couldn't... refuse."

"What did he tell him?"

"He told him the truth. The humans have been a pest for too long. Wouldn't it be nice to live without them? To live in a world where we no longer have to fear for our lives due to a natural evolution in our genes for which we are not responsible?"

"But he didn't tell him the whole truth, did he, Sinister? He didn't tell him the real reasoning behind the bill, behind the Mutant Control Agency, did he? I don't believe he did. Apocalypse means to use the Agency to his own purposes once the human "virus" has been eradicated. We're all to be his slaves, are we not?"

"You're good, Charles, even with the gene inhibitor around your neck. You truly are a brilliant man. You didn't need to be psychic to connect the dots. Bravo."

Sinister bows low, a mocking grin playing upon his deep cyan lips, exposing his sharp teeth.

"I commend you, Professor," he says with deep sarcasm.

Charles stands, and with a weak leg, kicks Sinister in the jaw. Deep, glowing green blood spews from his now split lip. He stares at Charles, rage deep within his eyes, but outwardly calm as his new wound quickly seals itself.

"Have you forgotten, Charles? You can't hurt me."

The Professor lunges forth, grabbing the syringe. Sinister grips it tightly, fighting him off with a free hand. Charles flings his already sore head wildly into the nose of his adversary, causing him to release the syringe. Charles jams the needle deep into the soft flesh in the side of Sinister's neck, and slams the plunger. His veins bulge as the liquid shoots in. He screams in agony and rage. Charles feels a tight grip on his arm as Sinister flings him wildly.

The weightlessness of the free fall causes the Professor's stomach to turn, emptying into the night air. He twists and twirls, falling rapidly toward the massive crowd of undead rotting corpses.

"I know ya only got one eye, so I understand your tunnel vision, but should we really be out there when we don't even know where the Professor is?" Wolverine shouts intensely across the War Room. Cyclops' jaw sets, bulging slightly as he grinds his molars.

"Wolverine, in his absence, you know damn well that I'm in charge."

"That don't give ya the right to kill us all with one bad command. Decisions like this are usually left to him."

"Have you considered the possibility of his death? Jean hasn't been able to reach him all day. She can't find him anywhere."

"Give it time, Rambo."

"Wolverine, you are out of order. You do not argue a command decision."

"I do when it's a bad one. Don't come cryin' to me and askin' me to help ya zip all the body bags, pal."

He turns, grumbling, and leaves the room.

"That's one less problem for the day," Cyclops says angrily, "If there are no more objections, I'll meet you all in the hangar."

Scott sits in the pilot's seat of the SR-71 Blackbird jet, rubbing his closed eyes. He carefully places his Ruby Quartz visor back over eyes, and grips the steering handles, allowing his head to rest between the two. Footsteps tap on the metal stairs, climbing up into the fuselage. He raises his head to turn and look. The entire team, minus Wolverine, slowly and silently enters. Jean breaks away from the line and seats herself in the co-pilot's seat. She reaches to him, placing a gentle hand on the nape of his neck.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" Cyclops asks quietly.

"Yes, Scott."

"What about Wolverine?"

"His motorcycle's gone."

"I hope he God damn crashes!" Cyclops pounds his fist against the arm of his chair, and roughly pulls the switch to close the hatch. "Everybody, buckle up. We'll be in Manhattan in 20 minutes."

Wolverine rides the back roads at frightening speeds. Growling with every breath, whether he knows it or not. His arms grow ever colder in his sleeveless yellow uniform with signature black feline stripes. The front tire hits a patch of oil and skids along the icy road. Wolverine slams full force into the guard rail of a curve, flying over and down a steep embankment, 30 yards straight down into the forest. Halfway down, the rear tire, still spinning, cracks him roughly in the head, causing him to see stars for a brief moment. He lands heavily in the muddy leafy mess that is the forest floor. The bike lands beside him, missing by mere inches. Wolverine lies still, unconscious, groaning quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

Darkness. It's all he knows as he begins to stir. Slowly, sounds can be picked out, one at a time. A boot shuffling on the floor as someone mis steps; the heavy breathing of a man with a sinus infection; the soft giggle of a flirtatious woman. All of which occurred at precisely the same time. He grunts as he tries to sit upright. "Hello, Charles. Nice of you to join us." He recognizes the voice, but there's something odd in it. He can't place it.

The voice lifts the shapeless felt bag from his face. It belongs to Mr. Sinister. "Where is Magneto?" is all Charles can manage. A sharp pain shoots through his skull, starting in the left eye socket, and blasting through his brain stem. "Charles, I admire your naiveté. Blissful it must be not to see the whole picture, even when it is presented in its entirety, uncensored, for your viewing pleasure." The Professor shakes his head, the jumbled thoughts slowly coalescing into one realization.

"Come, Charles, stand up and join me on the balcony for a moment."

In his stupor, the Professor is forgetful of his disability, and stands, following Sinister out to the balcony. He gazes out into a long field far below them, full to the brim with what appears to be people.

"Is that the Capitol Building?"

"Yes, Charles. You stand now at the very top of your nation's phallus, gazing out at the Washington Mall."

Sinister throws up his arms in triumph, gazing at his army. Each and every soldier thrusts a fist into the air.

"My friend, you will remember the night you were struck by the sight of ten-thousand fists in the air."

"Dear God," Charles chokes out as he turns away, falling to his knees.

"The riders have departed from my very gates far below your feet. The four are abroad, seeking out the greatest threat to our cause." He spits out "Your X-Men," with such fury, as if vomiting out pure anger and hatred.

Professor Xavier looks up to see Mystique seated only a few feet from him. Beside her in a cage of steel bars lies the President of the United states, unconscious and bound. "But how-" Charles spits out, wildly. Mystique transmogrifies into the appearance of the President. "Good morning, citizen, registered voter. You picked a hell of a President," she says in the President's voice.

"But what about Congress? Even you couldn't be in all of their places at once."

"No, she couldn't," Sinister begins with a wry grin, "But I could certainly lean on them in my own way." He holds a large syringe in his hand, and squirts out a bit of blue-green fluid.

"Where is Magneto?"

"Apocalypse offered him a hell of a bargain. He simply... couldn't... refuse."

"What did he tell him?"

"He told him the truth. The humans have been a pest for too long. Wouldn't it be nice to live without them? To live in a world where we no longer have to fear for our lives due to a natural evolution in our genes for which we are not responsible?"

"But he didn't tell him the whole truth, did he, Sinister? He didn't tell him the real reasoning behind the bill, behind the Mutant Control Agency, did he? I don't believe he did. Apocalypse means to use the Agency to his own purposes once the human "virus" has been eradicated. We're all to be his slaves, are we not?"

"You're good, Charles, even with the gene inhibitor around your neck. You truly are a brilliant man. You didn't need to be psychic to connect the dots. Bravo."

Sinister bows low, a mocking grin playing upon his deep cyan lips, exposing his sharp teeth.

"I commend you, Professor," he says with deep sarcasm.

Charles stands, and with a weak leg, kicks Sinister in the jaw. Deep, glowing green blood spews from his now split lip. He stares at Charles, rage deep within his eyes, but outwardly calm as his new wound quickly seals itself.

"Have you forgotten, Charles? You can't hurt me."

The Professor lunges forth, grabbing the syringe. Sinister grips it tightly, fighting him off with a free hand. Charles flings his already sore head wildly into the nose of his adversary, causing him to release the syringe. Charles jams the needle deep into the soft flesh in the side of Sinister's neck, and slams the plunger. His veins bulge as the liquid shoots in. He screams in agony and rage. Charles feels a tight grip on his arm as Sinister flings him wildly.

The weightlessness of the free fall causes the Professor's stomach to turn, emptying into the night air. He twists and twirls, falling rapidly toward the massive crowd of undead rotting corpses.

"I know ya only got one eye, so I understand your tunnel vision, but should we really be out there when we don't even know where the Professor is?" Wolverine shouts intensely across the War Room. Cyclops' jaw sets, bulging slightly as he grinds his molars.

"Wolverine, in his absence, you know damn well that I'm in charge."

"That don't give ya the right to kill us all with one bad command. Decisions like this are usually left to him."

"Have you considered the possibility of his death? Jean hasn't been able to reach him all day. She can't find him anywhere."

"Give it time, Rambo."

"Wolverine, you are out of order. You do not argue a command decision."

"I do when it's a bad one. Don't come cryin' to me and askin' me to help ya zip all the body bags, pal."

He turns, grumbling, and leaves the room.

"That's one less problem for the day," Cyclops says angrily, "If there are no more objections, I'll meet you all in the hangar."

Scott sits in the pilot's seat of the SR-71 Blackbird jet, rubbing his closed eyes. He carefully places his Ruby Quartz visor back over eyes, and grips the steering handles, allowing his head to rest between the two. Footsteps tap on the metal stairs, climbing up into the fuselage. He raises his head to turn and look. The entire team, minus Wolverine, slowly and silently enters. Jean breaks away from the line and seats herself in the co-pilot's seat. She reaches to him, placing a gentle hand on the nape of his neck.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" Cyclops asks quietly.

"Yes, Scott."

"What about Wolverine?"

"His motorcycle's gone."

"I hope he God damn crashes!" Cyclops pounds his fist against the arm of his chair, and roughly pulls the switch to close the hatch. "Everybody, buckle up. We'll be in Manhattan in 20 minutes."

Wolverine rides the back roads at frightening speeds. Growling with every breath, whether he knows it or not. His arms grow ever colder in his sleeveless yellow uniform with signature black feline stripes. The front tire hits a patch of oil and skids along the icy road. Wolverine slams full force into the guard rail of a curve, flying over and down a steep embankment, 30 yards straight down into the forest. Halfway down, the rear tire, still spinning, cracks him roughly in the head, causing him to see stars for a brief moment. He lands heavily in the muddy leafy mess that is the forest floor. The bike lands beside him, missing by mere inches. Wolverine lies still, unconscious, groaning quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

The Blackbird sets down on the street amidst fallen buildings and various other debris. With a soft hiss, the door swings down, and the X-Men spills out into the street. "Power's out," the Beast says, carefully surveying several downed power lines. The dark of night is even more painfully obvious without the artificial light of street lamps, storefronts, and apartments. Their only light is the dim moon behind the storm clouds and the many fires throughout the streets. "This ain't good," offers Rogue with her deep Alabama twang.

"I guess we'd better get moving. It's best if we stay together for now." Cyclops speaks carefully, fighting to maintain control. "Keep your eyes open for survivors."

They move cautiously as a group, carefully climbing over debris where necessary. "Wait, quiet!" The Beast calls out suddenly. He pricks up an ear, listening intently. "I heard it again. This building, come on!." As he leads them closer to the corner deli, the cries for help grow louder. The door is entirely blocked by the upper half of the building next door, which had toppled over hours before. Scott speaks quickly. "Back up." He unleashes an optic blast, crashing through the brick, and clearing a path for the team. He fires a much thinner beam at the glass door, shattering it, then ducks under the hand bar which crosses the center of the door. Hank follows him in, hopping through the opening like a chimpanzee.

"Upstairs." Hank leads him to the back of the store, and up the stairs. The ceiling had caved in, and currently rests on the floor, completely blocking the passage. "Son of a bitch," the Beast says, and begins pulling at the debris, tossing it down the stairs behind. "We can't risk an optic blast, it would cause too much debris and be a danger to anyone on the other side."

Outside, the rest of the team seats themselves among the debris. "I wonder where the professor is," says Bobby Drake, best known to his friends as Iceman. He sits in normal form, no ice yet. "I think that's all anyone here is thinking about," Storm replies, ending the conversation there. "Mutant menace detected. You are all under arrest." A large Sentinel stands just behind the building across the street, peering over at them. Gambit reaches into his jacket, producing several cards, already fanned out. Colossus morphs into a steel being as he says, "I'm beginning to miss Wolverine," in his thick, Russian accent. Iceman hops up, and before his feet hit the ground, his body warps into his icy form. The Sentinel reaches out, knocking over the brick building like a tower of wooden blocks.

"Time to rock!" Bishop shouts, un-holstering his energy blaster and cocking. The Sentinel whips a tentacle out of his palm, swinging it at the X-Men. Rogue grabs it, wrapping it around her arm twice in the blink of an eye. With a deep grunt she pulls to the side with all her strength, causing the Sentinel's body to whip to the right, smashing his head through another building. Dust and debris fall on the team. Storm quickly takes to the air, surveying the land all around. "There are more coming from all directions. I suppose an alert has been called as to our exact coordinates!"

Inside, The Beast and Cyclops hear the battle. "Quickly, Scott, we have to get these people out!" The two fight the fallen chunks of roof as quickly and strongly as they can, tossing large chunks off the stairs and down into the meager deli. The Beast hops through the opening, running on all fours down the narrow corridor. The head of a Sentinel crashes through the wall to his immediate left. Henry dives and slips just underneath, barely escaping injury. "For the love of all that is holy, call out to me! I'm here to help you!" As he moves, he kicks open each door, quickly surveying each room for survivors.

Psylocke leaps from a nearby rooftop, drawing her samurai sword in mid-air. She brings it down into the eye socket of a Sentinel as she lands on its shoulder. The other eye explodes, sparks fly out of every hole in the head. The body dies immediately, going limp and falling to the ground with a crash. Storm creates a gale force wind, knocking down two of the Sentinels, and immediately strikes them both with massive bolts of lightning.

It begins to rain again, pouring down large, freezing drops. Another Sentinel takes aim at a nearby building, firing an energy blast from the eyes. The building slips in the middle, and leans, beginning to topple over onto several X-Men. Jean holds it up telekinetically. "Move it! I can't hold it for long!" They all run as fast as they can away from the building. One of the Sentinels grabs Jean with a tentacle, swinging her up into the air. Bishop fires an energy blast from his gun, severing the tentacle. Colossus grabs her out of the air, and hastily drops her to her feet to rejoin the battle.

Gambit runs between two of the gigantic robots, unleashing a hail of kinetically charged cards with each hand, causing both to fall over. He quickly jumps onto the head of the nearest, and charges it as much as he will chance, leaping hastily to the ground, and continues running. The head explodes seconds later. The blast causes Gambit to fly forward, landing hard on his arm.

The children's voices cry out to the Beast from behind a locked door. Cyclops had finally been able to clear the rubble enough to clumsily make his way through and down the hall. He opens his visor just a bit, and a very fine beam of red fires from his eyes, shattering the deadbolt's encasement. Henry flings himself through the door, and grabs the children. They scream in sheer terror at the hulking, animalistic form of their savior. A young boy, and presumably his older sister. "Scott, watch my back!" The Beast carries the children close to his body, one in each arm, racing back down the hallway. He slides on his back underneath the Sentinel head, still sticking in through the wall. Cyclops follows, seconds behind. Beast leaps over the remainder of the debris and down the stairs, landing roughly on the dusty, debris covered tile floor of the deli. "Listen, kids, stay here, OK? Get in the corner, and cover your heads. We'll be back in a few minutes," says the Beast and he places the kids on their feet. They do as they were told, and cower in the corner. Cyclops joins him a moment later. "We'd better get outside," he says.

Wolverine comes to with double vision and a dull ache in his brain. He raises himself up, and stands on shaky legs. Once he regains his equilibrium, he surveys the damage to his bike. Bent and totally wrecked. "Bet it won't even start," he growls. He looks up the steep embankment, and unsheathes his claws. Using his claws, he pulls himself to the top and up onto the road. The guard rail is bent, and one of the supports had been knocked off. "That explains the headache." He reasoned that he hadn't been driving that long, even if fast. He couldn't be very far from home. He then wondered what the hell time it was. Hard to tell after daylight savings.. Once 5 o' clock hits, might as well be midnight. He wondered if the team would be home. "The longer I sit around wondering about this shit, the later I'll be home." He began his long walk back in the direction he had come several hours before.

Hank feels the massive, strong hands of his good friend Colossus on his belt as he prepares himself. Colossus spins once, like an Olympic discus tosser, and releases him into the air. The Beast streaks through the air so fast, he appears as only a large ball of blue fur. He crashes into the chest cavity of a Sentinel, and claws his way up to the head, which he forcefully twists off. The severed head in his hand says, "Halt mutant," just before his red eyes fade to black and the head dies. "Kiss my furry blue ass." He replies as he slams the head down, full force, then rides the body to the ground.

"Hank, hurry!" Bobby shouts above the din as the X-Men pour into a narrow alley. The Beast runs back into the deli, grabbing the kids in each arm again, then follows. They run deeper into the city, where another group of mutants fight for their lives. Rogue takes to the air, flying like a bullet into a Sentinel, causing the entire torso to collapse in upon itself. She grabs the target, a young girl with the power of seismic activity. Cyclops runs out into the street, unleashing a massive optic blast, tearing the arm off a Sentinel. It bends over, picking up the arm, and swings it in the general direction of the X-Men. "There are too damn many. There's no way we can hold them all off forever!" The voice belongs to a panicked Storm. "Just chill out, we're gonna make it!" Bishop yells back as he unleashes absorbed power on a group partway up the street.

The Mansion seems empty as Wolverine enters the front gate and walks up to the front door. He catches a scent and sniffs the air. He growls deeply and pushes the door open as stealthily as he can manage, then closes it behind in the same manner. He sniffs again. "Marko..." he grumbles. He follows the scent through the mansion. Up the stairs, then around the bend. Into the elevator. Wolverine enters the elevator and takes it to subbasement 2. The scent is all over. Wolverine follows it down into the hangar. The Juggernaut busily inspects a foreign-looking aircraft. Wolverine unsheathes his claws, slow and silent. He leaps into the air, flying across the room, and clings to his back. "Well hey, Wolverine, I'm glad to see you too, buddy. Now come out in front where I can hug ya back!" He reaches back, grabbing Wolverine by the back of his head, and flings him downward, smashing him heavily into the floor with a metallic thud. Adamantium skeleton against solid steel floor. A strange THWIP sound carries across the room, and the Juggernaut's leg is pulled out from beneath his massive body, causing him to fall on his face. "Hey, no fair! You didn't tell me you invited a friend over. I'll have to make extra smores!" Cain Marko grabs the string attached to his ankle, and pulls, causing Spider-Man to slam into the opposite wall.

"Nice going, Spider," Wolverine grunts, "Now let's show this son of a bitch how we do things down town."

Logan pulls himself to his feet, and stares at the grinning Juggernaut. Spider-man unleashes a stream of web at the Juggernaut, who allows it to wrap around his arm, then yanks, trying to pull the light-weight Spider-man with it, but Spidey releases it, causing the Juggernaut to topple under his own strength. He then leaps onto the ceiling, and busily gets to work trying to web hog-tie the massive crimson psycho. He effortlessly snaps Peter's webbing, and tosses a toolbox upward, which he easily dodges.

Wolverine dive-bombs Juggernaut, and jams his claws into the seam where his helmet meets his costume. He pulls with all his might, popping the helmet off which hits the floor with a loud reverberating clang. Peter webs his face, blinding Marko, and cutting off his airways. Within minutes, he falls to the ground. "What the hell is going on in here?" A figure steps through the door frame. "Cable. Hm. Guess I should have expected you. I thought I smelled you in here. Just figured it was your old man."

"Where are the rest of the X-Men?"

"Trying to stop the forces of the government."

"Well, I got news for ya, Wolverine. It ain't the government. It's Apocalypse."

"Do you watch the news? Congress passed the bill. Not him."

"You're wrong, Logan." Charles wheels himself in on his traditional old wheelchair.

"Professor. What happened?"

"It's a long story, Logan, and we're not safe here. We need the rest of the X-Men immediately. I'm still recovering. I won't be able to use my powers for some time."

Spider-man pipes up. "Listen, Professor, this isn't a safe place for you. My identity has never been compromised. There are only three people in the entire world who know who I am. I can take you to my aunt's house. In times like these, I'll just have to trust all of you to keep my secret."

"Spider-man, that's very kind of you, but I simply couldn't impose."

"Professor, with all that you've done for me, I feel like it's time to pay you back. I won't take no for an answer."

Charles sighs, resolved. "Alright, Spider-man."

"You don't have to call me that anymore, as long as you promise not to laugh."

"I promise."

Peter removes his mask, the Professor smiles.

"Peter Parker. I always wondered how you got those amazing photos."

"You mean you honestly never knew who I was?"

"Yes, Peter. I never enter someone's mind without their express permission. Now, would someone cut the Juggernaut loose before he really dies?"

Cable produces a long serrated knife, and cuts through the webbing over Juggernaut's face.

"We'd better go immediately. If we're going to your aunt's house, Peter, we'd better get changed," he says, placing the knife back in it's holder.


	6. Chapter 6

Within hours, Wolverine, Cable, Peter Parker, and Professor Xavier pull up to the residence of May Parker in the Professor's Rolls Royce, dressed in normal clothes. Cable wears a suit borrowed from the closet of Piotr Rasputin, the largest of the X-Men, the only one who owned a suit large for Nathan Summers' massive musculature.

Peter steps out of the rear seat, closing the door behind him, then makes his way up the cement walk to the front door. He opens it, and steps into the small living room where Aunt May sits, watching the news coverage. "Aunt May," he says with a smile. "Peter! I'm so glad you're all right. Where have you been all day?"

"I've been helping my friends, Aunt May. Listen, would you mind entertaining a couple of friends from the college?"

"Of course, Peter. I would love the company. I'm tired of the news anyway. It's been on all day."

"Great."

He opens the door. "Logan, you guys can bring him in." Wolverine enters, carrying Professor Xavier. Cable follows with the wheel chair.

"Big friends, Peter," she says, carefully surveying Wolverine in his bomber jacket over blue jeans, and the massive Cable wearing the navy blue suit.

"Aunt May, this is Professor Charles Xavier, he teaches bio-chemistry, and Dr. Nathan Summers, he teaches Philosophy."

"It's very nice to meet you both," she says with a smile as she shakes each man's hand, respectively.

"And this is a mutual friend, Logan. They're going to stay with him in West Chester for a while. Their apartment in the city was destroyed. If you don't mind Aunt May, Logan and I are going to take their car up to West Chester and empty it out."

"How do you do, Mr. Logan?" she says, shaking Wolverine's hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker," he says with a smile.

"We'll be back in a couple hours, Aunt May." Peter steps to the door, opening it for Logan, and exits himself.

"Please, sit down, gentlemen. Could I get you anything to drink? I've got tea on."

"Tea would be wonderful, thank you Mrs. Parker. And please, call me Charles." Charles says warmly.

"And for you, Mr. Summers?"

"Yes, please. You can call me Nathan."

"Alright, Nathan, Charles. Just call me May. All of my friends do."

She steps out of view into the kitchen on the other side of the dining room. After a few moments, she re-emerges with a tray carrying three tea cups, and a matching tea-pot.

"So you gentlemen live together?"

"Yes. We have an apartment close to campus," comes the reply from Charles.

"You know, you have nothing to hide. I think it's wonderful. I personally have no problems with your type of people."

"Our type?"

"Yes, well, you know, I watch the news. I know a little thing or two."

"You do? But how could you know?"

"It wasn't very difficult. How long have you two been together?"

Wolverine and Peter strip off the outer layers of clothing, revealing their costumes beneath. "What's the fastest way into the City?" Wolverine asks, now halfway down the street from the house. "This," Peter says, grabbing Wolverine, then leaps into the air, sending out a line of webbing.

Nightcrawler clings to the back of a Sentinel for dear life as it flails around, trying to grab onto him. Exhaustion begins to creep up into his head, making the scrawny blue teleporter slightly dizzy. Rogue floats up to the eye level of the Sentinel. It turns its focus from the rodent on its back to the floating bombshell before it. The Sentinel reaches a massive hand out, trying to snatch her from the air. She effortlessly dodges and evades like a butterfly eluding the grasp of a toddler. A beam of energy from behind knocks her from the air. She instinctively covers her face with her arms as she crashes head-first into the pavement.

"We're losing it, old buddy!" The Beast declares from several feet beside Cyclops. Colossus charges between them, pummeling through the leg of the nearest robot, disconnecting the knee. The Sentinel lurches forward and falls flat. It pulls itself along using only the arms and grabs the top floor from a nearby two-storey with a neon sign stuck to the side. The Sentinel raises it high above, and brings it down into the street with a massive crash and an explosion of stone and dust. The remains rumble and shift as Colossus pokes his head out through the top of the mountain.

Wolverine clings to Spider-man's back as he web slings through the crumbling city streets at nearly 200 mph. "They can't all be gone," Wolverine says in his ear.

"We've been out here for three hours, Wolverine. I don't have much hope left."

In the distance, a bright red beam of light fires up into the rainy night sky.

"That had to be Cyclops!"

Cyclops fires a thick blast from his eyes, knocking a Sentinel down, crashing through the half-building behind. "We can't take a lot more of this, Scott!" Jean yells at him in his mind from across the street. Iceman slides by Cyclops on his ice slide, and sends a freezing blast to the head of the Sentinel carrying Nightcrawler. Gambit launches a charged card immediately after, shattering the head into icy shards, which rain down to the street below. Nightcrawler flips down, artfully dodging the icy daggers.

Spider-man sends out a string of web which sticks to a street lamp, launching him and Wolverine forward at ridiculous speeds. He releases Wolverine, who flies through the air. He extends his arms before him, unleashing the claws and assumes the shape of an arrow. He slams into the head of a Sentinel, and tears through. He hits the ground on his feet and rolls to a stop beside the Beast.

"The Professor's fine. He needs everyone back, right now!"

"By my stars and garters, Wolverine. If what you say is true, we'll have one happy team on our hands."

"It's true. Now let's make some people really happy."

Hank launches himself into the air on his powerful legs, leaping over rubble, and comes to rest by Cyclops.

"Scott! Wolverine found the Professor. We have to get home!"

"Jean!" Cyclops yells out. She floats over to his position. "Send out a psychic message. We have the Professor. It's time to go home."

Wolverine, using his claws, climbs up the back of a Sentinel as it walks through the streets. He jams both claws into the glowing red eyes.

The psychic burst fills the minds of the entire X-Team. They regroup beneath the awning of a nearby five-and-dime.

Cyclops speaks quickly as the Beast carries the children over. "Listen, Wolverine just informed us that the Professor is safe. It's time to go home, team."

"All that's left is battling our way back to the Blackbird," Gambit says without much hope.

"I know we're tired, but we don't have a choice. We have to make it."

"This is gonna be fun," Wolverine growls.

"Let's get moving! Bobby, can you make us an ice shield?"

"How big a wall?" comes the reply.

"Just enough to shield the team. Bishop, you and I will provide cover fire. You take the back, I'll lead. Archangel, hit the skies, cover us with your feathers if you can. Storm, go up and give us as much fog as you can manage, help Warren cover us from above. Everyone else, keep your damn eyes open, and move quick. Ready, Bobby?"

"Let's go."

Cyclops charges out into the street, blasting a Sentinel back. Bobby immediately follows, creating an ice wall between them and the Sentinels. The team sticks close to the buildings. The fog becomes very thick, causing them to be partially blinded with a visibility of only ten feet. "Good work, team, keep moving!" Before long, The X-Men, accompanied by Spider-man, reach the Blackbird jet. "Scott, there are too many! If we take off now, they'll take us right down!" Storm shouts from above.

"We'll have to fight!" Cyclops replies, "Storm! Get into the cockpit and fire up the plane so we can go at a moment's notice!"

She lands on the ground beside him, and runs up the stairs. Seconds later, the engines whine to life.

Cyclops opens his visor all the way, sending out a massive, blinding optic blast, which knocks back the Sentinel's front line.

"Everybody in! Now!" They hurry into the fuselage, everyone grabbing a seat and buckling. The Beast places the children into seats, then helps Cyclops get inside and sit down. He's asleep before the Beast has time to buckle him. "He's fine, just drained," he announces as Storm lifts off.

The entire team packs into the War Room, and despite the over crowding, it is remarkably silent. Professor Xavier sits by the bank of monitors with Cable at his side.

"I was... delayed," Charles begins, "I want to apologize to you all."

"What happened, Professor?" Cyclops asks, still weary.

"Unfortunately, I was apprehended mid-flight on my way to Avalon to speak with Magneto. I was imprisoned, and unconscious. When I came to I found myself sitting in the top of the Washington Monument in the current stronghold of Mr. Sinister. He is working for Apocalypse; where he or his base of operations are located, he did not divulge. He did however, explain to me that he is responsible for the Mutant Control bill, and Magneto is indeed one of the four. The horseman of death. Mystique, however, is working very closely with Mr. Sinister, under his control. He is using a control serum on her, just as he did with congress in order to pass the bill. Where the rest of the Brotherhood are, I haven't the slightest. Back to the topic at hand, Sinister tossed me from his balcony into his waiting army down below, which overcrowded the mile and a half long Washington mall between the Monument and the Capitol Building. It seems Mr. Sinister has outdone himself yet again, for I was shocked at what it was that I saw as I grew ever closer to his soldiers. He has mastered the re-animation of the human corpse."

"You mean an army of Zombies?" the Beast inquires, intrigued.

"Precisely, Hank. And so ends my part of the story. Allow Cable to speak now."

"In my time, Apocalypse succeeds, imprisoning the entire mutant race. He has knocked over the Statue of Liberty, and is already erecting a massive watch tower in her place. When I say HE knocked her over, I mean HE knocked her over. Punched the big green bitch right in the head. This tower is the single biggest freakin' super computer you'll ever bloody see. It controls his entire army. That's right kids, he owns the Sentinels, but that's not all. He's building an army fit to shit. He's got robots the size of people so they can climb and maneuver the same way, get into places the real Sentinels can't reach. He's got shit that flies, shit that crawls, shit that will find and kill anything that moves. Apocalypse is fortifying heavily. In addition to his tower, he's building a massive wall using the debris of everything he can get his hands on. Buildings, cars, whatever. The only way in or out is through a gate, facing West. Now one of the single most important things we must remember, Charles can't die. If this guy dies, we're all screwed. You might as well slit your throats where you stand, because it ain't nothing compared to what ol' Pocky-lips is gonna do when he gets your ass in his hands. That's why I'm here. Charles fell, and died in my time. I transported back to Washington DC at the site of the Monument. Lucky thing too, he was already falling when I got there. So I flew under, and snatched his ass out of the sky. That helps my people a little, but just not enough, or I wouldn't be here right now."

Betsy Braddock speaks up. "Cable, I have only one question. Why did Wolverine and Spider-man have to come and find us, aren't you psychic?"

"One of the most powerful psychics ever. Almost as powerful as Jean Grey over here. But not anymore."

"Why not?"

"I led a mutiny against Apocalypse, stormed his tower on Ellis Island. The Cure is the price for mutiny. The Cure, and imprisonment. I got out. Sabertooth wasn't so lucky."

A shadow of fear passes over his face, but fades quickly. He will say no more.

"After interrogating the Juggernaut," Cable begins after a few moments in silence, "I've decided that he isn't working for them. He was here because he figured you would be out there, trying to fight off the Sentinels, and Charles would be home alone. However, I still have no idea what the hell Spider-man was doing here."

"I can answer that," Peter says, removing his mask, "I saw your strange craft flying overhead, so I hitched a ride. I clung to the belly all the way to the mansion. I thought you might have been working for whoever was doing all this."

"So what are we supposed to do?" The voice belongs to Warren Worthington, who has had more experience with Apocalypse than he likes to admit.

"Well," Cable begins, "Anything we do has to be on foot. Take a plane, get shot down. They're watching the skies more intently now. No one's flying anything. We also can't let everybody go. A small force would be best. The fewer the people, the harder to detect. Now I hate to do this, but Hank, you're going. You're the only one who can do it. You have to infiltrate the fortress and disable the computer. The question is, who's going with him, and who's staying home?"

"I'll lead a team in," Cyclops says hastily.

"I think," said Charles, starting slowly, "That you should balance the team's strengths. Wolverine makes a good scout, keen senses, nearly indestructible, the best fighter on the team. Gambit should go, his agility makes him an asset to a mission of stealth. Storm and Rogue should accompany them, flight will prove an invaluable trait before long, I'm sure. Psylocke and Bishop will go as well. And finally, Jean. A team of nine."

"So that leaves the rest of you to stay home and keep an eye on the Professor," Cable interjects, "My advice to you all is to rest as well as you can tonight, and leave in no more than twenty-four hours. Remember, every second passed is another second closer to my time coming true."


End file.
